A Study in Chocolate
by notcardinalrichelieu
Summary: An AU in which Charlie Bucket is one of five culinary students selected to study under Willy Wonka (the world's most famous chocolatier) for eight months. / An angsty college AU.


**CHAPTER I : An Extraordinary Opportunity for Charlie Bucket**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any part of anything...yet.**

 **Before you read: This story will somewhat parallel the original storyline if you put on your in-depth analysis glasses and squint. However, I can assure you it will not in any way resemble those countless retellings of the actual story floating around out there. The four other 'ticket winners' might have passing commonalities with the original four if you really look for them, but my intention is to introduce four original, balanced characters. No orphaned goth girls will be found here.**

 **A/N: I'm posting this on February 1st for the added** **parallel effect because I'm secretly cliche as heck.**

They were making meringue when Professor Dujour came trotting in like the sky was falling down on his heels, brandishing a sheaf of papers. He stuttered out a sentence, but no one in the room understood him, because his French accent was quite as thick as he was and he was also out of breath.

"Students!" he finally managed to gasp out, "Look what I've just received!"

All the students immediately crowded around him, because Professor Dujour was normally a rather calm and boring man, and whatever had caused him to become so agitated must be interesting indeed! The papers bore a short letter typed neatly in crisp black ink. It said:

'Dear Professors and Staff of the Alberta Culinary Arts Institute,

I, Willy W. Wonka of the Wonka Chocolate Company, would like to extend to all your students an invitation to spend eleven months working as an intern with me, in my factory in New York City, all expenses paid. Any student who wishes to apply may fill out the form below. If said student is accepted, they will be notified on or before December 12th and the necessary arrangements will made. Please ensure applications are submitted by midnight, December 5th.

Sincerely,

Willy Wonka'

"Oh my God!" screamed a petite blond girl. She grabbed the hands of her equally petite and blond friend and they both jumped up and down. All around the campus, and culinary schools around the world, people scrambled to fill out applications and and have a shot at an internship with the world's most famous chocolatier. The Internet went wild. Rich kids paid other people to write their application essays. Even those who were not in culinary school became interested.

Charlie Bucket turned in his application and tried not to hope.

Charlie Bucket was not extraordinary. He still lived with his parents. His family was very poor, and up until Charlie was old enough to work they struggled constantly. Many children who lived in similar circumstances became resentful, but poverty had given Charlie a sense of humility. He did his best to help his parents out however he could. The death of both sets of his grandparents had been very hard on them.

After high school, his parents insisted he go to school, no matter how much Charlie protested he needed to work and help them. They reasoned he would not be able to get a proper job unless he went to college.

When Charlie was young, they used to live in New York City, right in the shadow of Wonka Chocolate Company's largest factory. There was shingle missing in the roof above his bed, and so the factory was the first thing Charlie saw when he woke up and the last thing he saw before he fell asleep until they had moved to Canada when he was eleven. Perhaps that had contributed to his obsession with it.

You see, Charlie had loved the factory for as long as he could remember. For his birthday each year he received a Wonka bar, and he saved the wrappers and tacked them to his wall. He built a model out of toothpaste caps. He stopped each day on his way to school to peer longingly through the gates and inhale the rich chocolate aroma drifting from the tall smokestacks.

After the Bucket family moved, Charlie gradually began to wish for other things. Money for the rent. A radiator that worked. The worry etched on his mother's face to fade.

He had almost quite forgotten about the chocolate factory.

For the rest of the week, the internship was all the students talked about. The bitter cold of December gradually crept into the city. Charlie knew his parents were struggling now more than ever. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his grades up and balance work and homework.

Charlie did not even notice December 10th had come and gone.

December 11th was a particularly trying day. His classmates thought only of the internship. Charlie thought only of the odds. Every culinary student in the world has probably entered. There were geniuses and prodigies and thousands of people with impressive applications that made his pale in comparision. Surely someone as famous and talented as Willy Wonka would be much more apt to pick those kind of people.

Charlie worked as a waiter after school, at a small Italian restaurant twenty blocks away. He got off at midnight and walked home in a haze of sleep. It began to snow halfway, fat flakes that graced the pavement and hid the shabby neighbourhoods under a sparkling blanket.

Charlie observed the lights in his house were still on, which was odd, considering it was nearing one in the morning.

Charlie stepped into the house and was almost immediately assaulted by both his parents.

"Oh, Charlie, why didn't you tell us!?" exclaimed his mother.

"Tell you what?" replied Charlie, confused.

"That you applied, of course!" exclaimed his father.

Charlie was becoming more confused by the minute. "How did you-"

He was abruptly cut off by both his parents.

"We got a letter in the post today!"

"It said you got accepted, well - here read it for yourself."

His father thrust a thick white envelop into his shaking hands.

Surely, surely _not_. He couldn't have been accepted. There were only five slots. Perhaps his parents had misread it. Perhaps this was a just courtesy letter, the unfortunately-you-were-not-accepted-but-thanks-for-entering-anyway kind.

The envelop contained several forms and some very official, important-looking papers. On the top of everything there was a letter typed in the same manner as the the one to the Alberta Culinary Arts Institute. Charlie read it aloud:

'Dear Mister Charlie Bucket,

Congratulations! You have been accepted! Please fill out all the included forms and mail them back in the included envelop.

On January 12th at 10:00 a.m., I shall send a car to your residence to take you to my private jet, which will fly you to New York City. Another car will meet you and the four others there and drive you to my factory. If you wish to ship something which will be difficult to fit into my plane, say, a car, please do let me know and I will make the necessary arrangements.

Sincerely,

Willy Wonka'

The Bucket family grinned at one another.

It was Charlie's who broke the silence first.

"You're going to fly in a _private jet!"_ she exclaimed.

Charlie felt happier than he had in a very long time. But then he thought of his parents, all alone in the cold city, scraping out an existance without him.

"I...I think I need to stay here. For you," Charlie said. "It's not fair for me to leave you."

"Charlie," said his mother softly, "don't you realize how important it is that you go? This is the chance of a lifetime. You've loved that factory for as long as I can remember, and now you get a chance to study under Willy Wonka himself, and you want to _turn it down?!"_

"We made it okay when this family was twice as large and you only had your paper route," added his father. "Surely we can make it eleven short months."

Charlie but his lip. His parents had a point, but there was still that weighing guilt in the bottom of his stomach that told him he would be unimaginably selfish to go.

But the promise of eleven months with the world's most brilliant chocolatier won.

 **A/N: A lone author drags herself across the barren desert of this website. "Review,** _ **please**_ **," she begs. One hand stretches out to grab your ankle.**


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